Can't Stop the Healing
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: On Azeroth, they had been as close as brother and sister. Before the Old Gods. Before the Demon Soul. Before the Cataclysm, and their final battle. What were they now, in the Nexus?


_A/N_

_So Deathwing has been announced for HotS. That's neat. Like, pretty neat. Like, kinda pretty neat..._

_Anyway, drabbled this up._

* * *

**Can't Stop the Healing**

Of all the twists of fate the Nexus had pulled on her, this had to be the cruellest.

Such were Alexstrasza's thoughts as she touched down beside the fallen creature on the sands of Luxoria, taking her elven form as she did so. Like him, she had soared through the skies, doing Ka's dirty work in the never-ending wars that plagued this realm. Like her forced ally, she had fought in the Sky Temple, bringing wrath and ruin upon the enemies of the Serpent God. And now, at last, they were here, together. The battle was over. The infinite battles of the Nexus loomed ahead of them. Here, in this place, she could frankly do whatever she wanted to the beast.

He opened an eye and looked at her. "Alexstrasza," he hissed.

She frowned. "Neltharion."

"Neltharion," the great black dragon whispered, wincing as he did so. "A dead name from a dead world, long since both forsaken."

"And yet you remember it."

"Do these realm lords call me that name? Do any of these so-called heroes call me Earth Warder rather than Destroyer? I am here. This place can burn. And your attempts at healing me will amount to nothing."

Alexstrasza remained silent. Death meant so little in this place. The kinder thing to do might be to let Deathwing die and let him reincarnate in the Hall of Storms. Of course, kindness was a trait that the Old Gods' lapdog had not shown in over 10,000 years. And as death meant so little in the Nexus, thus, life was arguably just as irrelevant.

"Look at you," Deathwing hissed. "Walking around as if you were one of them."

"As I recall, you have done so likewise across Azeroth's history."

"Indeed. But still you fight as one of them." He sighed, even as the blood continued to pour from his wounds. "I saw you, you know. Healing these creatures, so rarely embracing your heritage as leader of the Red Dragonflight."

"There are many ways to fight in this world."

"Are there? Then tell me – do you begrudge my presence, seeing me in my magnificence?"

"In your horror you mean."

"And yet you tried healing me." Deathwing let out a rasp. "Is this not like old times?"

It wasn't, and Alexstrasza didn't bother saying so. Old times for the dragons dated back to the dawn of Azeroth itself. Here, the only dragons were the bi-pedal creatures who had once called King's Crest home, before the coming of Raena and her line. What she sought to do to her own realm now, caught up in her grief, was what Deathwing had sought to do to Azeroth. And why, in spite of everything, she dared approach the winged monstrosity before her. Why she raised a palm towards his scales, her hand glowing green with the powers of life.

"Do not touch me, witch."

"You are dying, Neltharion. You may have rejected any aid in that battle, but-"

"**Away with you!"**

She recoiled as Deathwing got to his feet. Here, in her elven form, she could appreciate just how large he was. Even if she'd taken her true form, he would have dwarfed her. In Azeroth, it had taken the power of all the aspects along with mortals to finally put an end to this creature. Here, even as the Nexus 'balanced the scales' of all who were drawn in, she didn't fancy her chances.

But she could also see that he was struggling. The blood continued to pour from his wounds. Sword and bullet and claw had rent him, and for all his might, even if he'd won the battle for Ka, he had succumbed to the inevitable in the end. So accordingly, Deathwing slumped back down on the sands.

"Leave me," he hissed. "Spare me your poison and let me be reborn in my glory."

"And then what?" Alexstrasza hissed.

"Then?" Deathwing chuckled. "Then, assuming that the Nexus continues to operate as it always has, I will take part in another battle. And another. And another after that. I will taste blood, tear meat, spread terror into the hearts of my foes, and I shall enjoy it." He looked at her and chuckled once more. "Oh Alexstrasza, I can see how this torments you. But have you considered that this is a place I enjoy? Battle after battle. Battles not in service to myself, granted, but not anything as ridiculous as the so-called sanctity of life."

She remained silent. Even as he drew his head close to her. His eyes as large as her head, his jaw large enough to swallow her whole.

"I will fight," Deathwing whispered. "You and your ilk will not aid me with your magics, or your technology, or anything else. And I will watch you, and see your soul die as you realize that you cannot escape. And that I have no desire to."

"Perhaps," she whispered. "But I shall watch you, Neltharion. For the Old Gods are not here. And perhaps, in time, you can change again." She looked across the empty sands of Luxoria. "Even in this place."

Deathwing said nothing.

Not as he breathed his last, and the sands of a broken realm covered his body, before being transported back to the Hall of Storms to be reborn.

For there was another battle for the Destroyer. There was always another battle.

For all of them.


End file.
